


The Truth Runs Wild

by phangirlingforphan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunkenness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 04:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5770888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phangirlingforphan/pseuds/phangirlingforphan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is this Dan? I’m so sorry, I know it’s three in the morning but I have your friend Phil here, he won’t stop crying and he’s really fucking wasted, could you come get him? He said you broke up but I didn’t know who else to call. He just kept asking for you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth Runs Wild

i.

Four shots down and Phil still feels pain.

So he has another.

When a heart breaks it’s less of a shatter and more of an earthquake. The impact hits and you’re shaking and your knees are giving way and your head is in your hands and you try to breathe but every desperate lungful of air just hurts.

You start to question whether the pain is worth it and maybe you smile again and the sun shines and you feel some hope. It’s not until you’re crying in bed and it’s 4am and the space beside you feels colder that you miss their arms.

The nights are the loneliest. Phil didn’t want to be lonely anymore so he’s sat in a bar. It’s late or early or something but the sky is dark and he can still see the stars - that’s good enough for him.

“Another one, please.” he says quietly to the bartender, pushing his shot glass shakily towards him.

The guy is right to raise an eyebrow. “You sure, mate?” he asks.

“Yes. I need to feel numb.”

The bartender cocks his head in sympathy as he measures the vodka out, “Whoever she is, she probably wasn’t worth it.”

Phil laughs at that and accepts the shot. He downs it in a second.

“I never did like women that much.”

“That’s the spirit, dude.”

He has to refrain from rolling his eyes. Ah, heteronormativity.

Phil decides it’s time to find a new bar, this one’s getting too crowded and everyone looks far too happy. He stands up and it all rushes to his head. Fuck, he’s wasted. Fuck, he misses Dan.

He sways and stumbles outside, grabbing onto things for support as he goes. How many shots was it? Four? Five? They were supposed to make him feel numb and he just feels worse than before.

He’s still lonely. He’s still an idiot. He’s still lost the best thing that ever happened to him. Dan smelled like happiness and warmth. Phil smells like depression and six shots of cheap vodka.

He leans against the wall of the bar and watches his breath fizzle and disappear before his eyes - it’s like a strange metaphor for his life after Dan left him.

London is still a buzz of people and headlights; life is happening all around him yet his is so completely over.

Their final words are like an alarm in his head going off every five minutes and just when he thinks it’s over they’re coming back again and again and again.

****

“I don’t know who you are anymore, but I do know you’re not the guy I fell in love with.”

“I guess our love wasn’t real enough for you.”

“I’m done.”

****

Once upon a time Dan had told Phil he’d never leave.

He left.

ii. 

Phil doesn’t realise he’s crying until a tear splotches on his shirt and he looks up thinking it’s raining.

He wipes his eyes hastily but they keep coming. He’s been falling apart for weeks he didn’t think it was possible to lose any more of himself.

There’s a strangled, broken cry. 

“Are you okay, dude?” Someone’s talking to him. A female.

“Dan. I want Dan.” is all he can say.

“Dan? Is that your friend? Do you want me to find him?”

“Dan hates me. I fucking ruined everything. I want Dan.”

“What’s your name, sunshine?”

“Phil. Phil is my name.”

Why he’s spilling his sadness out to a strange he doesn’t know but he’s passed the point of giving a shit drunk and she wants to listen.

“I’m sure that isn’t true.” She’s soothing him. Nobody’s done that yet.

“I want to see Dan. I have to call him.” he fumbles erratically for his phone in his pocket, “I need to talk to him and see him and tell him I love him.”

“No, no, come on where do you live? We’ll get you in a taxi home, mate.”

“Dan is my home,” Phil cries, “I need to speak to him. He’s going to forget me. He’s going to forget how much he loved me. I can’t let him do that.”

There’s a pause. The girl is looking at him, she has soft eyes, they remind him of Dan’s.

“Okay, how about I ring him and tell him that? I’ll help,” she suggests.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, ring him for me he’s under Dan Howell, please, my passcode is 2009.”

She’s going to help him, it’s going to be fine, she’s going to help him win Dan back and maybe he won’t be alone anymore.

The female walks a couple of steps away from Phil when she talks into the phone, giving him a thumbs up to indicate everything is okay.

“Is this Dan? I’m so sorry, I know it’s three in the morning but I have your friend Phil here, he won’t stop crying and he’s really fucking wasted, could you come get him? He said you broke up but I didn’t know who else to call. He just kept asking for you.” she mutters into the phone, a clueless Phil stood unsteadily a metre away, the tears still on his face and the alcohol very much contributing to his thought processes.

He hears her say, “Thank you, Dan. You’re a good guy.”

“Is he coming? Does he love me again?”

She doesn’t know why she says it. Phil looks like a man who tried his best and fell the hardest. She recognises him from something and has an inkling he’s almost kind of a big deal. And he’s scared, she can tell. He doesn’t deserve to feel scared.

“He’s coming, yes. He loves you.”

She sort of believes that. This Dan person sounded like shit on the phone, he answered instantly, his voice had been surprised but you could tell it was a good surprise, the sort of surprise you didn’t know you wanted until it happens and you realise it was everything you needed.

iii.

Dan doesn’t hesitate when he rushes out of bed and dons his jacket. Phil isn’t okay and he wants to help - old habits die hard.

So he goes outside and pretends that his thin leather isn’t useless against the subzero temperatures and hails a cab to where Phil is, telling the driver that he won’t say a word if he breaks a few speed limits to get there. The engine revs when a twenty-pound note slips onto the passenger seat.

Heartbreak happens in stages.

First, it’s pre-break up - you know it’s coming. You try your best to ignore it and tiptoe around the inevitable because once it’s happened, that’s it. Your soulmate isn’t your soulmate anymore.

Then, you’re wounded. The pain is relentless, as are the tears that follow you onto the next stage: the suffering.

It’s days of living in your duvet, vacant expressions and staring at your phone in case they change their mind and want you after all.

Phil stayed wounded while Dan tried to get used to having a scar on his heart for the rest of his life.

And now, as Dan gets out of the cab and sees his broken ex-partner shattered into even more pieces than he was before, he feels himself take a step back and suddenly he’s wounded again, too.

“Shit, Phil.” he mutters, shaking his head. He cards a hand through his hair and crouches, coming level to Phil, who’s head is in his hands and who has empty bottles littered at his feet.

There’s a female hovering, and Dan assumes it’s the girl who called him.

“Are you Dan, yeah?” she asks.

Dan nods, “Yep, thanks for calling me about him.”

“He was desperate for you, it was the only thing I could do or fuck knows where he’d have ended up tonight.”

Dan really doesn’t want to elaborate on that thought.

“Come on,” Dan says, putting an arm around Phil’s waist and trying to haul him into a standing position.

“Dan?” Phil asks confusedly, his bleary eyes trying to focus on the figure helping him up, “Is it really you?” The stench of Phil’s breath is enough to make Dan almost drop him.

He holds his breath. “Yes, it’s me, come on I’m taking you back to your flat.”

“It’s yours too.” Phil protests, his head lolling onto Dan’s shoulder.

It’s not. He’s not on the lease anymore. He’s wrong. But then again, his new flat doesn’t feel like home, not like their old one did. He’s got nothing on the walls and no colour, no random objects spread everywhere and no Phil. It’s eerily similar to their relationship; Dan was black and white until Phil scribbled his colourful personality all over him. Now Phil’s gone, so has the colour and he’s back to monochrome days.

He manages to get Phil into the waiting taxi, thanking the young woman once more. Phil slumps against the seat and breathes heavily, eyes shut.

“Why are you here, do you love me again?” he says in a long, almost incoherent slur.

“I’m taking you home, Phil.” is all Dan says.

“Are you staying? I like it when you’re there.”

“I don’t know, Phil.” 

How he ends up with Phil’s head in his lap he’s not sure, but somehow his fingers end up threading through Phil’s hair and not being able to stop.

iv.

Phil is sound out for the entire journey.

If there was one thing Dan had never imagined he’d be doing it’s this. Since when was Phil someone who drank as much as this, let alone by himself in sleazy bars?

When they broke up, they agreed it was a mutual thing, that this was going to benefit them both in time and that they had to let the other one move on. Dan can see now that it wasn’t mutual at all.

Unsubscribing to Phil on YouTube had left Dan crying for over an hour.

When he’d first pressed that subscribe button all those years ago, it had been the best decision he had ever made and it had brought him more happiness than he ever thought had been possible. Years of smiles and friendship and unconditional love and meeting the one person who understood him better than anymore.

And now he’s lost it all in one click of a button.

Unsubscribe. Unfollow. Unfriend.

As much as he can undo those things, he can’t undo the things that were said.

****

“You tell me, Phil. Is this a healthy relationship? Are we happy? Have we been happy for the past few months?”

The silence that follows is all Dan needs to hear.

“Well, fuck, I don’t know about you, but I am fucking miserable Phil, and I refuse to deal with it anymore.”

****

God, he wishes Phil had fought back.

v.

They arrive at the flat and it takes all of Dan’s strength to get Phil out of the taxi and up the stairs.

Phil is still half asleep and inebriated as he fumbles for a key, supporting his weight on Dan.

“Don’t,” Dan interjects, “I still have mine.”

Phil doesn’t say anything.

He unlocks the door and all but shoves Phil inside and into the lounge.

“Sit.” he instructs, pointing to the couch.

Phil grimaces like a child being disciplined but sits anyway.

“I’m gonna get you a drink of water.”

Dan ambles to the kitchen. He’s missed this place. Everything is still exactly how it was left. He told Phil not to worry about dividing up their stuff; camera equipment, DVDs, games consoles - he could keep them all, Dan would just buy new stuff.

Phil hadn’t liked that, he’d complained that Dan was just showing off the fact he always earnt more than him, but Dan had shook his head and explained he just had some extra money saved up ‘for a rainy day’ so he’d be okay. It was mostly true; he wanted Phil to be okay, that’s all he’s ever wanted.

It’s when he notices the pile of unopened letters on the counter that he starts to worry. White, fat envelopes with the words ‘FINAL NOTICE’ emblazoned on them in garish red ink are collecting far too much dust.

It’s human nature to be curious so he flips them over, yet they’re unopened. Phil must have at least six of them.

He has to take a deep breath before he does what he does next. YouTube app open, ‘AmazingPhil last uploaded two months ago.’

“Oh, Phil.”

It’s surreal how the tables have turned. A mere few years ago Phil was the one picking Dan up off the ground and putting him back together. Now it seems it’s Dan’s time to repay the favour.

He makes a mental note to take the letters before he leaves and sort whatever needs to be sorted out.

vi.

“Here,” Dan says, thrusting the glass in Phil’s hand, “Drink it all.”

Phil titters, but does as he’s told, downing the water and setting the glass aside.

“Happy?” he asks.

“I don’t appreciate the tone, but yes, I am happy you are going to sober up.”

“Great, are you leaving now?”

Dan’s nonplussed. “Five minutes ago, you were slurring about how much you miss me, what the fuck’s changed?”

Phil snorts obnoxiously. “Well, you hardly want to hear me do that so I decided to stop.”

“I never meant for this, you know that, right?” Dan asks quietly, “I never meant for us to end how we did.”

“Could’ve fooled me, Dan.”

He’s hurt Phil so badly, but then Phil’s hurt him equally as badly. 

“We made each other miserable.”

“No,” Phil interrupts, derisive, “I made you miserable, there’s a difference. You said it yourself.”

“You’re right, I can’t deny I said that,” Dan says, “But you never fought back, Phil. You didn’t even try.”

“I know.” Phil’s voice is softer now.

“Why? I just need to know why. It’s driving me crazy, Phil.”

“Driving you crazy? Dan, you just picked me up from a bar after a stranger had to dial and tell you how wasted I was and how I was screaming for you. And you think you’re the crazy one?”

“YOU DIDN’T EVEN FIGHT FOR ME!”

He doesn’t mean to shout but he’s so god damn confused and he just needs to know why. “You just let me leave, without a second glance, you let me go so easily. As if it was a piece of cake to drop and forget everything we had. As if it never even mattered.”

Phil’s looking at his hands and wringing them, the words are stumbling and choking in his throat.

“You know that phrase?” he starts unsurely, “about loving someone but having to let them go? I finally understood what it meant that night.”

Dan’s exasperated. “Phil, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying you were right. You had to leave and I had to let you because I wouldn’t want you to stay with me if it was making you this upset, especially when you could have something much better.”

And then he’s said it, and it all makes perfect sense. Yet Dan’s heart is tying itself up into more knots than before.

“I don’t, I don’t know if this changes anything,” Dan stammers, “But if you’d fought, this might have been different.”

Phil simply licks his lips. “Well,” he says, looking up at Dan, a sheepish smile on his face, “I guess we’ll never know what it could have been now.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I don’t know, Phil.” Dan whispers. “Fuck, I can’t even imagine being with another person.”

“Neither can I, but I don’t know if I could go back to someone who once didn’t want me anymore.”

Dan swallows thickly, “I’m sorry, Phil.”

“Me too, Dan.”

Fuck it. He’s just going to say it.

“And I love you, I don’t want you to think that’s gone away, that’s never going to.”

It’s been done. No regrets.

“I love you, too, Dan. So much.” Phil sounds so sincere that it takes Dan’s breath away.

“I hope that we can realise that’s enough one day and it’s not too late.”

And then he exits the room because he can feel himself beginning to crumble.

He goes back into the kitchen in the flat he knows better than the back of his hand where he used to live with the man who he still loves and he can’t understand how they’ve gotten here.

He grips the edge of the counter tightly and wills the tears to stay away.

vii.

When he goes back into the lounge, Phil is completely passed out on the sofa. Secretly, he’s missed that sleepy face.

It feels like nothing’s changed when Dan grabs a blanket and puts it over Phil. He used to do this on nights he’d be up editing late or when he’d fall asleep halfway through a 1am film they’d put on.

He doesn’t think about what he’s doing when he brushes the hair away from Phil’s eyes and kisses his forehead. He doesn’t need to think about it. He knows how he feels, it’s not a thing he can mull over in his mind because the outcome will never change.

So he allows himself to sink into the spare armchair across the room. He lets himself be comforted by the slow rise and fall of Phil’s chest and his soft snores as he falls asleep; just like he used to and he hopes maybe he’ll have the chance to get used to it again one day. 

\- fin

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! one of those ideas that came to me very late at night and needed to be written straight away.


End file.
